


The Breaking Storm

by keirajo



Series: The Decepticon Emperor and His Autobot Lover [3]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Desire, Established Relationship, Love, M/M, Pain, Psychological Trauma, Rehabilitation, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-27 18:30:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16224857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: Hot Rod's treatment at the servos of Starscream has left him with some trauma and he has lost his ability to speak.   It feels like it will be many long months before the new sparkling is born, while the young Autobot deals with this pain.   And what kind of sparkling will be born in the end.........will it have any of Starscream's traits, due to the bit of Sparklight given during Hot Rod's captivity?   All of this is about to happen in due time, while waiting and trying to heal fills that length of time.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of talking, about important things. :)

_**The Breaking Storm** _

 

_ Chapter One: _

 

            Galvatron’s flagship was in orbit around Athenia—the planetoid the Earthlings had constructed an embassy/base on.   He’d taken the Autobots back to Earth and planned to reclaim his little spawn, Novablaze—only to find out that Daniel Witwicky (that human that wasn’t quite as annoying as all the other humans, Galvatron had decided) took Novablaze to Athenia to watch over him.

            _Held hostage was more like it._

            Because apparently the young human wanted things to get explained properly to him about the kidnapping and everything.

            Galvatron actually applauded the young human’s almost mercenary attitude.  So he did not mind making the little side trip to Athenia to collect Novablaze.

            But the small Autobot medic’s analysis of Hot Rod’s condition when they had been _en route_ to Earth…………that left him with some concerns.

 

_“Physically, he’s **fine** , Lord Galvatron—given everything that happened,” First Aid said, firmly.  Over the years, the small Protectobot medic had gotten used to Galvatron’s presence and his powerful field.   “There’s **no damage** to his vocalizer……” he began._

_“Then **why** can he not speak?!   He clearly **wants to speak** , he motions and moves his mouth at me!”  Galvatron growled sharply—his tone very loud and very angry, waving the arm with his nova cannon in frustration towards the medi-bay doors they were standing outside of._

_Patient confidentiality………..meet Galvatron.   He could probably be heard all the way back to Chaar._

_“It’s **trauma**.   Trauma from a situation of war……….of abuse………..of pain—it manifests differently in every single individual,” First Aid explained, knowing he wasn’t going to get Galvatron to understand this in just one shot.   “There’s something in his brain that’s blocked his vocalizer from making sounds…………some pain he **can’t** break through—it’s **become a wall**.   Most people who have these stress-related issues even fully realize they’re doing these things, but they are **unable** to tell themselves to stop.”_

_“ **Starscream**.  I am going to **kill** Starscream,” Galvatron snarled in a low voice, his engines rumbling at dangerous levels._

_“Which **might** make you feel better.  Which **might even** ease some swept back concerns Hot Rod has for the future……….” First Aid said firmly.  “But it **won’t** immediately break through the trauma preventing him from speaking.”_

_“Then **how** ……..?   **How am I to get my Prime’s voice back**?”  Galvatron snapped, his fist banging the wall and leaving a pretty good dent in it._

_“Time and patience………and if you have a psychiatrist on Chaar—Hot Rod should start speaking with them,” the small Autobot medic responded.   “We are all aware of Hot Rod’s stress issues— **you’re** the one who brought them to light for us Autobots.   His low self-esteem and how easily he can get stressed probably allowed this trauma to root itself fast and deep inside him…………but I think he **‘broke’** himself trying to protect the newspark.   And that’s **not** just his carrier protocols………you **know** how he feels about protecting others, especially when he cares for them.   The newspark is something he **treasures** —and it’s a **part of you** , the mech he loves with all of his Spark and programming………….he did all he could to protect the newspark from Starscream and Raj-ur-Malekk and with his low self-esteem and the fact that Starscream **did** give the newspark at least a little Sparklight, plus the rape and all of that.   Throw it all in a bowl, stir it up……….it’s a miracle he’s not in worse shape than this particular trauma.”_

_“ **Ngggh**.   Starscream,” the Decepticon Leader growled, angrily.   “While I am pleased we **could** conceive another spawn— **his health** is more important to me than giving me another sparkling.  Why will he not see that?   **I want him to take care of himself**!”  He snapped banging the wall again and making the dent even deeper.   “Given a choice, I would **rather** have **him** than anything else!”_

_“He **needed** to see a psychiatrist all these years, Galvatron—instead he was coddled when he had one of his self-esteem or suicidal episodes, **coddled and comforted**.   When what he really **needed to do** was that he needed to deal with it,” First Aid snapped back.   “Now, **do** you have a psychiatrist on Chaar—or do I request you leave him in my care on Cybertron until we can help him **‘fix himself’**?”_

_“I……….I do not know if we do or not,” Galvatron responded, calming down.   His worry for Hot Rod’s health and well-being stirred deep emotions inside of him and raging at everyone else wasn’t going to help his young Prime whatsoever.   “I will ask **Cyclonus.**   My lieutenant is aware of every Decepticons’ capabilities and skills.  I will procure your answer by the time we reach Earth.”_

 

            In the end, Cyclonus had notified him that from some of the troops that had come to Chaar from the frontier worlds in more recent months—where it took far longer for the battles to stop and many were unaware of Megatron’s demise and Galvatron’s rise—one of the Decepticons had a psychological care background.  The mech’s name was _Mindwipe_ —and while he could use hypno-therapy, he preferred to use the more traditional methods first before resorting to that.

            With First Aid in the room—Galvatron had very firmly ordered Hot Rod to submit to psychiatric care once they returned to Chaar……….for himself and for the newspark.  And to do it for Galvatron himself.  Hot Rod nodded, smiled at Galvatron and blanketed the mech he loved with all the love and warmth he could put into his EM field.   Then motioned with his hands for Galvatron to come to the berth, mouthing words of pleading, as he leaned back and opened for his lover—making First Aid facepalm himself and leave the room.

            So _clearly_ **_interfacing_** _wasn’t_ an issue for Hot Rod— ** _the physical rape_** wasn’t the trauma keeping him from speaking.  His carrier protocols were absolutely healthy and his love for Galvatron _wasn’t_ making him fear interfacing after Starscream raped him.   Without being a psychiatrist himself—First Aid suspected the _root of the trauma_ laid in the fact that Starscream was able to give _any Sparklight_ at all to the newspark……..Hot Rod probably felt he **_failed_** to protect Galvatron’s unborn spawn.   First Aid saw the chunk carved out of Hot Rod’s chestplate and surgically glued back in…………so he knew Starscream had _forced_ himself in, which meant Hot Rod had originally locked and sealed his chestplate closed.

            Hot Rod was probably worried the newspark had _become Starscream’s_ and was no longer Galvatron’s.  And once people got a thought in their heads, sometimes it was very difficult to persuade them otherwise.  So—after the two were done and the Autobot medic could speak with the Decepticon Leader again……….he’d urge Galvatron to do a _lot more light Spark-bonding_.  Much more than he’d done with Rodimus Prime’s carrying of Novablaze……if anything, to at least soothe Hot Rod’s deeply buried fears.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “So, Galvatron—you know my dad,” Daniel said as they all sat down at the same conference table Rodimus Prime and Spike had brought Galvatron to about five years ago.  “Or, to use your terms— _my sire_.”

            “So……..that is why you look alike,” Galvatron responded with a wry smile.  “So, you wish to know what happened?”

            The two humans nodded, waiting eagerly.   Galvatron explained about Starscream—his alliance with the Quintesson biologist.  Starscream’s new force of “ _Destrons_ ”.  Daniel laughed and said he knew exactly where Starscream got that name from—since he was into Japanese anime and many things Japanese lately………Starscream had clearly watched a Japanese news report way back when he was on Earth and heard the odd way the Japanese pronounced the Decepticon name.   Then Galvatron explained how Starscream at least managed to give the newspark a little bit of Sparklight and had raped Hot Rod over-and-over to add transfluid to the newspark’s frame core.   That Hot Rod was traumatized and worried that the newspark belonged to Starscream now and not Galvatron.

            “Of course, you _can’t_ explain to him that such a way of thinking is ridiculous—trust me, I _know_ how hard it is to convince a pregnant person of anything,” Spike sighed, folding his hands before him on the table and closing his brown eyes in thought.   “ _The two of you_ ignited the Spark—it belongs to _the two of you_.   Starscream adding _any_ of his CNA through Sparklight would be like a biologist injecting some new DNA into an already-conceived unborn baby for us humans—which _has_ happened and _has been done_ , but it _doesn’t_ prevent the unborn child from belonging to anyone else but the two that conceived it.”

            “Ah, he’s far too nice to be slammed with all these things, dad—when is good karma going to kick in for my big brother?”  Daniel sighed.   “Galvatron………how are you going to explain all this to Nova?   He _can’t_ glyph-send at this point, since he can’t even read or write Cybertronian glyphs, so Hot Rod can’t speak to him _that way_.   Has Hot Rod glyph-sent to _you_ , yet?”   The younger human asked carefully.

            “A few words, but all he has wanted to do is frag so far.  I have _always_ known him to be needy, but _now_ he is desperate,” Galvatron sighed softly.   “It is _not right_ , this sudden desperation………”

            “As silly as it sounds, he’s hoping to _‘erase’_ the bad memories of Starscream _doing him_ ,” Spike answered, shaking his head gently.

            “Sounds about right,” Daniel agreed.  “But Nova…….?”

            “Novablaze will adapt………and my little Prime will find ways to communicate with him.  That is all that can be done at this point, unfortunately.  I am uncertain how he will communicate with a psychiatrist—glyph-sending a session would be time-consuming and wasteful,” Galvatron muttered, a bit annoyed.  He had his own personal rules on glyph-sending and assumed everyone else used them the same way.  “But the Autobot medic _absolutely insists_ that he speaks with a psychiatrist.”

            “He’ll probably have Hot Rod type out his responses to questions one a computer or datapad, it would be a little cumbersome, but a bit faster than your glyph-sending at any rate,” Spike answered, nodding at the Decepticon Leader.

            Glyph-sending was akin to the Earth humans’ text-messaging.  It was _never_ meant for long responses or conversations.   Like text-messaging, it could be instant…….or could even take a few moments for responses, based on internal composition time and sending slowdown due to exterior factors.   Mostly it had developed during the war, to _most_ of its useful potential—to send quick commands against long distances and loud battlefields.   It existed outside of war, between friends and bonded partners to communicate brief messages of love and warmth.  Or an “ _I’ll be home soon_ ” kind of message, that sort of thing.    And like text-messaging…….usually you had to have the other mech’s personal communications’ code, or PCC to give them a glyph message.

            Galvatron _usually_ used it to issue orders when he wasn’t standing directly in front of an individual.   And he made sure _he had everyone’s personal communications code_ —even though the majority of them he never really contacted whatsoever.  His and Rodimus Prime’s codes had been exchanged somewhat involuntarily during the first data-interfacing they had—communications’ codes were used in data-interfacing, of course.   Very few Transformers at all had Galvatron’s PCC………….and he _ensured_ those individuals that did have his PCC **_did not abuse it_** , threats of their lives being the primary notification of abusing such a function.   Even from his Prime, he did _not_ want fluffy sendings in his glyph-messages—he should save that for when they were face-to-face………….though he did not always chide his Prime for sending the short and fluffy little messages.   _Only his Prime_ could get away with abusing the glyph-message system………….and, then, _only rarely_.

            “However it is done, it will _have_ to suffice,” Galvatron said, sharply.   “Until my Prime finds his voice again, at any rate.   This carrying will be different for him………….Hook and your Autobot medic believe that his trauma might make him _more susceptible_ to the downsides of carrying—such as the purging and dermal sensitivity.  Later on, when the frame core expands and grows once the newspark merges with it, the weight may pull on his backstrut more as well.   I use _their words_ , as I do not completely understand all of them.”

            “That means they may want to consider placing him on bedrest once that happens.  For pregnant human females—when the carrying is too heavy for them and causes a possibility of physical injury or great discomfort, most doctors place them on bedrest…………. _minimal physical activity_ and lots of sleeping,” Spike said, offering a few words of wisdom from having a pregnant mate at one time.

            “If it comes to _that_ , I will **_strap him down to the berth_** myself,” Galvatron said with a snort.

            Suddenly Daniel’s cellphone chirped a little tone and Spike gave his son a little exasperated glare.   Daniel raised a finger to his lips as he answered it.

            “Nova, are you awake from your nap?”  Daniel asked, softly.   “Your sire’s here………..do you want to see your sire?”  He asked after listening to the youngling tell him that he woke up and was hungry and wondered where Daniel went to.  “Okay, I’ll come and get you in a minute, all right?”  He said, smiling as he hung up the phone.   “Galvatron—I’ll be right back with Nova.   I had Perceptor make me a basic child’s cellphone, connected _only to mine_ , for Nova to use when I would be babysitting.   Dad………. _don’t give me that look_ —I use it like you and mom used to use the baby monitors, because it’s _absolutely boring_ to watch a child sleep for three to five hours.   I showed Nova how to call me on it—it’s just a simple button press device.”

            “Alright, I _won’t_ lecture you then.  But you did steal Nova from Metroplex on the pretext of babysitting him _yourself_ …………..I _don’t_ want you abandoning the child once you take on the responsibility,” Spike sighed, facepalming himself lightly.

            “Else **_I_** would not hesitate to step on you as punishment,” Galvatron growled softly at the teenage boy.

            Daniel was back in less than five minutes with Novablaze, who was gripping his plush Shiba Inu tightly and holding Daniel’s hand.   His young field rippled with relief when he saw Galvatron, though he didn’t beg or plead to go to his sire.   Galvatron reached down and plucked Novablaze up with a gentle grip on his neck, setting the youngling in front of him on the conference table.   Spike winced when he saw it and wanted to shout:  “ _He’s not a cat_!” at the Decepticon Leader…….but it was actually the only way Galvatron had ever handled Novablaze, so the youngling was used to it.

            “Are you well, Novablaze?” Galvatron asked, firmly.

            “Yes, sire.  Is cari……?”  The youngling asked, gazing up hopefully into Galvatron’s faceplate, hugging his round plushie tightly in both his arms.

            “Your carrier has suffered some……….. _injuries_.   They are not all physical ones, that kind that the medics can patch up easily.   They are _inside him_ , inside his brain and his Spark,” Galvatron began explaining, as simply as he possibly could without going into more gruesome details.   “These are hard to fix.  Time and patience will help, as well as a few other things your carrier will be trying to do.   But for now, understand that your carrier is damaged inside and he is unable to use his voice to speak………..he cannot call out to you or talk to you right now.  Use your field for emotions and support him, eventually he may gain his voice back.”

            “Sire………..can I see cari?”  Novablaze asked, desperately.

            “Yes, you may spend all the time you wish with him, as we go back to Chaar,” Galvatron said, smiling supportively down at his spawn.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            There was no reason for Hot Rod **_not_** to return to the embassy.   His and Novablaze’s personal quarters were there—and he was not forbidden from working, even though he could not speak.   The set-up on Chaar may have confused Autobots, but it was understood by all the Decepticons.   Those who worked at the embassy all had personal quarters at the embassy—there were guest rooms as well, which was where the Terrorcons tended to crash when they had marathons of “ _Fuzzy Fiesta_ ” with Novablaze.   Most Autobots probably would’ve assumed Hot Rod and Novablaze lived with Galvatron in his palace—given the relationship between the flame-colored mech and the Decepticon Leader.

            But Hot Rod _chose_ to live at the embassy, so Galvatron could keep his berthroom **_personal_** where he played with the ones he enjoyed playing with at his whims.   Though the flame-colored mech wished he could be Galvatron’s “ _only one_ ”, he knew it was impossible and it would be awkward to him to see his lover dragging others into the berthroom.   For the future, it was also for Novablaze’s benefit—so, the young mech could grow into his own being and not be influenced by the goings on in his sire’s palace………….meaning Hot Rod hoped one day Novablaze would _choose a lover_ because he _loved him_ and not just slept around for the pleasure of it, as Galvatron did.

            Hot Rod began carrying around a datapad, so he could type messages when he wanted to speak with people………….though Carnivac said he was good at reading lips, so just speak at him even without sound and he could understand what was said.   When Daniel made the suggestion of carrying around a datapad, Spike had laughed that you may as well hand him a sign and markers like a particular cartoon Coyote…………making Daniel facepalm himself in embarrassment of his dad’s comment that very likely showed his age.

            It was probably the most difficult for Novablaze………even though he _knew_ his carrier couldn’t speak—he would keep forgetting and ask for things.   Then he’d get upset that he forgot and worried he’d hurt his carrier’s feelings…….so, he’d start crying and walk over to a corner as if he were _punishing himself_.   Hot Rod would scoop him up and hug him tight, rippling love in his field as he held his youngling.   Communication was difficult when Novablaze couldn’t read Cybertronian glyphs.

            “Maybe it’s time Nova learned glyphs?”  Brainstorm said, sitting in the chair on the guest-side of Hot Rod’s office desk.  The teal-and-white Autobot was leaning back and had his pedes up on the corner of the flame-colored mech’s desk.

            **[All he cares about is “ _Fuzzy Fiesta_ ”, not sure he’d submit to traditional Cybertronian learning programs.  And I mean……….most of us come out of Vector Sigma’s chamber knowing history and our language, written and spoken.  So we’re not really _TAUGHT_ language.]**    As soon as he finished typing it, Hot Rod held up the datapad to show Brainstorm his answer.   **[But he _does_ know ten different Earth languages, which is much better than most Autobots.   I know twenty, but only because I downloaded a lot of language programs as Autobot Leader.]**    He added after Brainstorm nodded upon reading the first part.

            “Can he _write_ in any of those languages or read them?”  Brainstorm asked, curiously.

            **[Maybe.  I don’t know.]**  Hot Rod typed and held the datapad back over towards Brainstorm.

            The Autobot scientist got up and walked over to where Novablaze was sitting on the floor, playing with his blocks and cars.   He sat down, crosslegged, and eyed the “ _city_ ” the youngling had made out of the blocks.   Brainstorm admired Novablaze’s creativity.

            “Hey Nova…………can you read or write in any of the Earth languages you learned watching _‘Fuzzy Fiesta’_?”  The teal-and-white mech asked, his voice cheerful and friendly.

            “Little bit.   I _like_ Japanese……….their letters are funny, like glyphs.  _Pretty_ ,” Novablaze answered, looking up at Brainstorm and smiling at his carrier’s friend.   “English is easy to read, so’s French and Spanish and ‘Talian,” the youngling responded, then he used a tiny clawed finger to scratch awkward letters on the floor.   “It’s doggie’s name in _kanji._    This’s English version……….” he murmured, scratching some more and writing “ _Shiba Inu_ ” in Japanese and English.

            “Would you like to learn glyphs?”  Brainstorm asked, curiously.   He was impressed at the writing, even if those letters were a bit scribbled and wobbly.

            “Kinda.  But it’s _hard_ to just learn all quiet like,” Novablaze answered with a little pout.  “Songs help, though.   Can learn better with _music_ , me and Terrorcons.”

            “Have you ever thought about writing messages to Hot Rod in one of the languages you know?   And he could write back to you like that?   You _speak_ Earth English really well…………you speak it all the time when you’re talking with Daniel or Hot Rod, even to Galvatron,”  Brainstorm said, tilting his head curiously.   “I bet Hot Rod could use his datapad to _‘talk’_ with you in English.”

            “Cari!   _Can_ you?”  Novablaze asked, leaping to his pedes and running over to Hot Rod.

            Hot Rod looked down at his datapad to see if it could convert languages.   He swiped through a few screens and frowned.   Either it couldn’t or he didn’t know how to do it.   Wordlessly, he waved the datapad in Brainstorm’s direction and the Autobot scientist got up and walked over.

            **[I can’t figure out if this thing can change languages or not!]**    That phrase was typed in glyphs on the screen when Brainstorm took the datapad.

            The teal-and-white mech swiped through various screens quickly and then made an “ _ah-ha!_ ” sound and gesture.   “Pretty sweet…………this thing’s got quite a _lot_ of languages in it, but the settings are tricky,” the Autobot chuckled softly.

            “What’s going on in here?”  Carnivac asked as he walked in with a stack of datapads and input drives.

            “I’m seeing if Hot Rod’s datapad can change over to other languages, so he can talk with his son—Novablaze can read a variety of Earth languages because of that television show he likes,” Brainstorm muttered.   “It’s a little tricky, some of it’s _still_ turning up as glyphs, but………”

            “You can read other languages, Nova?  That’s _very_ cool!”  Carnivac said with a warm laugh.   “We should teach you Cybertronian glyphs though— _you’ll love it_.  It’s not too hard once you see the embellish marks and set strokes.”

            “Can you _sing it_ while teaching me?”  Novablaze asked, quietly.

            “ _My_ voice kinda sucks while singing, but……….I do know that I’ve heard some others learn the Cybertronian alphabet that way—it helps for some who have learning inabilities and disabilities,” the purple-and-brown Decepticon responded with a grin.  “Say…….. _I wonder_ ……..?  Maybe someone technical can overlay a new translation on that show you like, with a Cybertronian voice track and on-screen glyphs?”   He said.

            Hot Rod snapped his fingers and pointed a servo at Carnivac saying “ _That’s brilliant!_ ” soundlessly.

            “ _Awww_ ….you’re too kind, Hot Rod!”  Carnivac chuckled.    “I know a few Decepticons who are longing for a chance to do some acting, I’d bet there are some Autobots, too.   I’ll look into things on that end— _you_ find a technical person who can do the text overlay.   Oh, I think we should also ask and get permission from the _original company_ that made the show on Earth—it’s only proper, even if we’re just using it right here on Chaar for Nova’s sake.  Maybe the new sparkling, eventually, too.”  
  


*      *      *      *      *

 

            Hot Rod _knew_ he was dreaming and he _hated_ it………he hated this dreaming and struggled hard to wake up from his nightmare before it made him retreat even further into the depths of himself.  Eventually the flame-colored mech pulled himself up out of the dark dream and curled in a corner of his bed, sobbing soundlessly.   And even though he _knew_ his inner fears and nightmares were not true, he _couldn’t_ stop thinking about them…….he _couldn’t_ stop himself from thinking that Galvatron might despise him for surrendering to Starscream—at least _his body_ anyways, he’d sealed up his chest as best as he could and Starscream got in, all he could do was to seal his spark-chamber after that.   He couldn’t stop his body’s carrier protocols from opening for the Destron commander.

            And Starscream was so _much more ruthless_ before, now that he was out from underneath Megatron’s large shadow.   Hot Rod knew that Starscream was a _psychological mess_ , too………..and taking all his pain out on the universe in general.  Hot Rod was a prime target for getting revenge on the mech he despised all his life…………and the flame-colored mech _knew_ that.  He _knew all of this_ —logically and properly, he was _not to blame_ for anything that happened.

            **_And yet………._**

            And yet he _did_.  Because he was broken _long before_ Galvatron came into his life.   He couldn’t help hating himself and blaming himself for things beyond all control, because he was _broken_ long before he was finally wanted by someone.   But Hot Rod was good at _pretending_ life was normal.   He was good at smiling even when he was hurting inside.

            The former Autobot Leader kept his field held close, so he didn’t wake up and disturb Novablaze, whose berth was across the large room.   And even though he _hated_ himself for doing it, but figured he wouldn’t get an answer this late— _everyone_ should be in recharge, even the mech he loved.  Probably with Cyclonus warming his berth.   Hot Rod sent a query glyph to Galvatron.

 

**|Galvatron?  Can I see you right now?  Will you come to me?|**

 

            He _didn’t_ want to interface.   Though his body might try to persuade him otherwise, once Galvatron was right there in front of him.  His carrier protocols could be forceful and annoying sometimes.   He _just_ wanted Galvatron to wrap a strong arm around him right now—to drive back the dark dreams plaguing him.  And to feel that powerful, familiar field draped over him—it _didn’t matter_ what emotions were in Galvatron’s field, he just wanted the **_familiarity_** of it.   Even if Galvatron were angry or annoyed with him, he _just_ wanted to feel the field of his beloved Decepticon Emperor.

            Hot Rod laid there quietly, his sobs subsiding, waiting for an answer.   Galvatron _never_ liked being disturbed by personal glyph messages, he preferred it to be used “ _properly_ ” as he called it—for messages that were information or important.  Not for “ _fluffy things_ ”, as he called it.   He _tolerated_ it from Rodimus Prime and Hot Rod, only because of the special place the Autobot held in his Spark, but warned even the flame-colored mech _not to abuse it_.

            After five minutes, it was still tagged as “ _unread_ ” on Hot Rod’s HUD.  The young, flame-colored mech gave a silent, shuddering sob and curled into the corner of the berth closest to the wall.   Yeah, Galvatron was _probably_ deep in recharge by now, so he wouldn’t see the message until the morning.

            It would be _a long wait_ until morning now, because Hot Rod couldn’t go back to sleep.  Not to the nightmare waiting for him—with sharp edges and painful pressure.   He kept pushing himself into the wall, wishing he could disappear into it, his soundless crying echoing only inside of him.

            Then a soft ping announced a new message on his HUD.

 

**|Be at your window.  I will take you somewhere so that we may talk.|**

 

            Hot Rod quietly scrambled to his feet and snatched the datapad from the berthside table.   He walked over to Novablaze’s berth and pulled the blanket back up over the youngling—he must’ve kicked it off sometime during recharge.   That was when he noticed the dark shadow on the floor by the mechling’s berth.  _Ravage_ ………?   Galvatron must have sent the panther ahead, to watch Novablaze for them.   Hot Rod knelt and hugged Ravage warmly.  The robotic panther gave a soft little huff and nuzzled the flame-colored mech back, _trying_ to be comforting.

            Then the young Autobot went over to the window, only to find Galvatron was _already there_.  His boot thrusters were at their most silent of modes as he hovered and held his arms out for Hot Rod.  The flame-colored mech crawled into his Emperor’s arms and they flew off to a far away area that hadn’t any construction done to it yet—it was _still_ dirt and rock.   Or, rather, whatever rocks _weren’t_ a shambles—this was one of the areas they used to fight in, back when Hot Rod was Rodimus Prime.

            “ _You_ should be sleeping, Prime.  Why are you awake this late?”  Galvatron asked, sitting on a rock and settling the young Autobot into his lap comfortably.

            **[Nightmares.  I couldn’t go back to them.  Just wanted to feel your arms and field around me. _Sorry_.]**   He held the datapad up to Galvatron to read the answer he’d typed.

            “Do not be sorry.  I have been made aware by many that this is something that will take you time to recover from,” Galvatron said with a deep sigh.  He placed no particular emotion in his field, but let it fall onto Hot Rod like a blanket.  He felt the young mech relax even more, so he knew he had done the right thing.   “Starscream has _always_ been like this.   He is _petty_ and he is _jealous_.   And he is **_hateful_**.   While it disturbs me that I can remember everything about Starscream—it is beneficial that I do.   Together with your Autobots—we will _eventually_ find where he has holed himself up again and make him pay.”

            **[How will you combat Scorponok?   Trypticon is still greatly-injured and remains on Dinobot Island on Earth.  Metroplex is home to the Autobots on Earth—you cannot ask their home to up and leave to fight, right?]**    Hot Rod typed on his datapad and then held up the device for Galvatron to read.

            “Is _that_ the base’s name?   _Ah_ , now we have data to share with Optimus that we did not have before,” Galvatron chuckled.  “Do you know any more about the base?”

            **[Hellbat was way too chatty, especially when he thought I was unconscious.  I was in and out, but heard a lot.  Triple-mode, like Metroplex………….battle mode, base mode and a robot mode.  Not sure what the battle mode is, though.]**    The flame-colored mech responded via glyphs on the datapad.

            “Even though you were _hurt badly_ , you _still_ collected data.  You are _quite amazing_ , my Prime.  This is one of your many fine attributes,” Galvatron chuckled, smiling down at Hot Rod.

            Hot Rod didn’t respond with words on the datapad this time, but he snuggled against Galvatron’s chest and rippled love through his field, tangling it up with his lover’s—he felt _really happy_ right now.  He felt happy to be with Galvatron and to be appreciated and cared for by the wild, violent Decepticon Leader.

            “ _My little Prime_.  I wish to ask two favors from you,” Galvatron said, adjusting his hold on Hot Rod to have the smaller mech sit up in his lap, straddling his hips and gazed down into the luminescent blue optics.   Hot Rod nodded up at him, eager to be of use to the mech he loved.  “Then _first_ —I would like you to compile a report, of sorts, of _everything_ you remember overhearing.   Everything that you can remember may help us— _myself and the Autobots_ —find Starscream sooner.  It may also help us prepare better to face him.”

            Hot Rod grinned and nodded, reaching hands up to cup the sides of his lover’s faceplate.

            “Now, for the _second_ —there is something I must show you, before I ask you to Spark-bond…….at least _lightly_ , tonight,” Galvatron began, his deep voice soft and reverberating in the silence around them.

            Hot Rod tilted his head, curiously.  Galvatron adjusted his grip to pull his little Autobot lover back into his arms and then shot up into the atmosphere above Chaar quickly.  The flame-colored mech was surprised at how fast Galvatron could fly when he opened up his boot thrusters to full.

            “I want you to _look down_ , my Prime.  **_Look down at Chaar._**   Do you _understand_ what you see?”  Galvatron said, firmly, his voice gently commanding.

            Hot Rod was puzzled as he looked down.  They were high enough up that the young Autobot could see the palace…………the habitation blocks and the embassy………….and the new plaza district that was in the beginning stages of construction.  It was where there would be shops and an entertainment district.   In a way, it reminded Hot Rod of the plans that someone had shown him for New Helex on Cybertron—back when he’d been the Autobot Leader.   Who was it………… _was it Sandstorm?_...........who said to him that as soon as you could start building a place for mechs and femmes to enjoy themselves and to laugh with each other, then you knew you had achieved a true sense of peace.

            **[What am I supposed to see, my lord?]**   Hot Rod typed, slowly with one hand, on the datapad and held it up to Galvatron to read.

            Galvatron sighed.   He’d hoped he _wouldn’t_ have to point it out so obviously, since his young Prime was the one who usually understood things like this— _things that needed no words_.

            “Without you………… _I would not have any of this_ ,” Galvatron whispered softly to the flame-colored mech in his arms.   “And if you were gone— _all of this would tarnish and turn to dust_.   You give me so much and ask for so little in return.   You accept me the way I am and the way things are—even though you desire these strange things like monogamy and love.   You………. _who were given **nothing** when you came out of Vector Sigma’s chamber_ —you give **_everything_** to everyone you meet.   **_You are an irreplaceable treasure_** ,” the Decepticon Leader said softly as he felt Hot Rod’s body tremble with new sobs, but there was happiness leaking into the wobbly EM field even as he cried soundlessly.   “You are an absolutely irreplaceable treasure—not just to me, nor to Novablaze and the newspark.  You are an irreplaceable treasure to the Decepticons and to the Autobots—and to the universe.   Your place in this universe would become a dark void if you were gone……..and that empty void would _never_ be able to be filled by anyone ever again.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hot Rod shares some concerns with those who are close to him............and the new sparkling is finally born!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now don't just skip to the end, okay everyone? XD

_ Chapter Two: _

 

            Ultra Magnus was led to a conference room on the _main floor_ of the Autobot embassy on Chaar, which surprised him.   He knew Hot Rod’s office was on the _second floor_ of the three-story building.   But Carnivac explained that Hot Rod had finally been confined to berth by Hook and First Aid for the remaining three months of carrying, because his backstrut was curving too much with the newspark’s weight, so they’d cleared out a conference room on the main floor and made it an office _AND_ berthroom for the moment.

            But Hot Rod _still hadn’t spoken yet_ , he still had to use a datapad to communicate.   The Autobot’s Second-in-Command had heard the frustration in Galvatron’s voice over this continuing issue the last time the Autobots and Decepticons had met to discuss Starscream’s latest antics out on Galactic Alliance fringes.

            **[HI MAGNUS!]**   Hot Rod’s datapad said in very bold glyphs as the younger mech held it up.   Ultra Magnus could see the enlarged and bold glyphs even from the doorway across the room.

            “Good afternoon, Hot Rod.   How are you feeling?”   The red-white-blue mech said, smiling and walking over to the medical berth—which had the back raised so Hot Rod could work from a portable station pulled up to the berth.

            **[Heavy and tired.  First Aid and Hook did some ultrasounds and the weight isn’t the newspark, it’s the fluid.  For some reason there’s excessive biofluid in my gestation tank this time around.   Neither are sure what that means, if anything at all.]**   Hot Rod typed on the datapad.   **[And they don’t want to drain any of it to reduce the weight—just in case there’s an important reason for it.   Look at me—the medical-wonder-miracle-thing!   Hot Rod’s making us learn new things whether we want to or not!]** He added, holding up the datapad and grinning as Ultra Magnus read the glyphs.

            “You don’t seem as emotionally messy this time around.  Especially given the situation a few months ago,” Magnus responded.  “It felt like I was always patting your shoulder when you were crying about how happy you were or how ugly you thought you looked when they cut away your chest armour, back when you were carrying Novablaze.”

            **[Magnus hugs work miracles.   I miss them.]**  Hot Rod typed, then smiled fondly at his former Second as the mech read it.

            Ultra Magnus gave a little chuckle and reached down to hug as much of Hot Rod’s shoulders as possible.  “ _There_.   Now can we talk what we’re _supposed_ to talk about?”   He asked, but he was smiling fondly back down at the younger mech.

            **[This is what I want you to post on Cybertron—if you would.   I do still need more help in the embassy, and I’m really glad for Brainstorm and Carnivac………….and the Terrorcons help, too, when they’re not watching television with Nova.   But I need _more_ help and I _want_ more Autobots.   Surely somebody’s got to want to come here and help me out?]**  Hot Rod typed on his datapad.  Then he handed an input drive to his former Second.

            “I’ll see if I can recruit more for you, but you could have simply called me about this.   Why…….?”  Ultra Magnus began, then he saw Hot Rod look down and away from him.   “Hot Rod…….?”  The tall mech queried softly.

**[Do the Autobots _hate_ me?   My _choice_?  That I chose _Galvatron_?   _I’m still an Autobot!_    I’m _NOT_ a Decepticon and I one day want us all just to be…………. _US_.]**   Hot Rod typed.   **[Is that why nobody will come help me?   Because they think I’m a traitor?]**

            Ultra Magnus felt pain stab his Spark.   It wasn’t good for the flame-colored mech to get emotionally worked up while he was carrying—because he usually felt a lot worse than he actually was.   “I think things are very complicated, Hot Rod.   I don’t think most feel you are a traitor, but they do question your tastes in berthmate in regards to Galvatron being that particular berthmate,” the old warrior answered with a soft sigh.

            **[Why won’t anyone come and visit me, then?   That’s what the embassy is for………..it’s an _AUTOBOT_ embassy.  The _Autobots_ can come here and _be Autobots_ , you know?]**  Hot Rod typed up, but he was frowning the whole time and Ultra Magnus could tell he was near-to-tears, too.  **[They _must_ hate me, if they won’t even come to see me.]**

            “Have you asked anyone to come see you?   Have you invited anyone?”  Ultra Magnus asked, tilting his head curiously at the young Autobot.   He was glad Galvatron was away from Chaar right now—he, his forces and one of Optimus Prime’s forces were pursuing some of Starscream’s forces along a narrow strip of territory between the Galactic Alliance borders and the Outer Edges (the Alliance’s term for frontier worlds not joined with them).  They would all be gone for three to five days.  If Galvatron _had_ been here—he would’ve long since sensed Hot Rod’s depression and would’ve been in here snarling at Ultra Magnus for upsetting “ _his Prime_ ”.

            **[Yeah.   Arcee and Springer.   Both told me you gave them more duties and they didn’t have the time.   Spike, Carly and Daniel can only come if the Autobots bring them—which makes Daniel mad, because _he’d_ like to come and see me more often.   And I’m told the Autobots don’t have the time to run them out here for visiting.   First Aid is the only one who comes when I ask, sometimes he brings a few of the other Protectobots.]**   The young Autobot typed and then held the datapad up for the red-blue-white mech to read **.   [Everyone I i-mail tells me they’re too busy.  That you or Optimus have given them more duties and stuff.]**    He added to it, when Magnus got a very strange and upsetting look on his face.

            “They’re _lying_ to you.   I’ve given _no one_ on Cybertron any more duties than they’ve already got and Optimus Prime has kept things pretty standard on Earth as well.  In fact, many of them have more free time than before, because of the accords,” Ultra Magnus snapped, suddenly very frustrated with the Autobots on Cybertron—for flat-out lying to Hot Rod to avoid coming to Chaar to see him.   He couldn’t believe it……..that they’d go _out of their way_ to lie to Hot Rod just to avoid coming to Chaar, the Autobot’s Second-in-Command was suddenly very furious.  What were the Autobots becoming if they would lie to one of their own and use their commanding officers’ names to cement their lies?

            Then Hot Rod’s head dropped and he raised his servos to cry into his palms.  He’d known it deep in his Spark, but it hurt to have Ultra Magnus confirm it for him.   The Autobots benefitted from the ceasefire accords, but no one wanted to be seen “ _associating_ ” with the Decepticons, it seemed.   That was why it had been difficult for the special project, of making a Cybertronian language track for Novablaze’s favorite show, to help him learn glyphs—at this point, only Decepticons had volunteered to work on it.   Well, and Brainstorm—who, surprisingly, had a very pleasant singing voice.  In the end, all the Decepticons that were working on it were actually having a lot of fun, doing things they never thought they’d ever do in their lives—so, it worked out, but Carnivac had hoped some Autobots would work on it, too.

            “Hot Rod, they don’t deserve your tears if this is the way they are choosing to act.  If no one else will make the effort to come and see you, then **_I_** will find others to take on some of _my job duties_ so that **_I_** can come and see you more often,” Ultra Magnus said, firmly, reaching a servo down to stroke the young mech’s helm fondly.  “And I’ll bring Spike and his family along whenever they would like to come.   If anyone’s actually been too busy to visit, it’s myself and Optimus—no one else has been given more tasks than they’ve already always had.”

            **[Don’t make an issue of it.  I don’t want people “ _guilted_ ” into seeing me.  I only want people _willing_ to come.]**   Hot Rod typed with one servo, using his other to wipe anxiously at his faceplate.

            “I know.   But I can’t believe they’re being like this.  They’re acting like selfish newmechs,” Magnus sighed, folding his arms over his chest.   “I had no idea they were acting like this.  It’s _ridiculous_.   I’d been at your side since you became leader and I watched you grow—Galvatron brought out your best and you’ve made him a better mech, as well.   I may have felt distant from you at the start, but I adjusted and learned that how you’d been treated had wounded you deeply.  Galvatron makes sure to throw that in my face _every time we speak_ —that _we Autobots_ hurt you.   And……..it seems…….some still keep hurting you.”

            **[Did I ever tell you about that first time—on that distant world with the desert and the abandoned city?]** The flame-colored mech asked, via the glyphs on the datapad.

            “Hot Rod!  _Please_ ……..I _don’t_ need that kind of graphic detail!”  Ultra Magnus groaned, tossing his head back and facepalming himself with one servo.

            Hot Rod laughed without sound, wiping the remainder of the tears from his optics and began typing something that wasn’t as long as the Autobot’s Second-in-Command was expecting.

            **[When I asked Galvatron to “ _conquer me_ ”, I thought he would kill me.  I was expecting to die on that world.   He may have been wild and passionate and violent, but he was surprisingly intuitive and even a little protective once he saw the depths of my programming and how badly I wanted to die.]**  Hot Rod held up the datapad and let Ultra Magnus read it and absorb what it meant.   **[He saw I was broken—that his “ _great rival_ ” was dead before we could truly settle our “ _fight_ ”.  And while he didn’t know what he should do with me, he understood enough to tread carefully with just how he conquered me.   And that strange, so-strange sense of caution and attention made me realize that Galvatron had great depth to him—depths untouched.   Buried treasure that I wanted to dig up and present to the universe.   I fell in love with him, because he was the first of our kind to pay any kind of attention to me—he is a wild monster with a blazing sun in his Spark.  That sun needs worlds to shine upon, that’s why I want him to run through his desire to conquer so I can show him the next step in his evolution—to be the truly great leader that he actually already believes himself to be.   He helped me have more confidence and if I’d had more time as the Autobot Leader—together the _two of us_ would’ve forged a brighter universe for all of our kind.   But now……….I have to work in the shadows—the shadow of the great Emperor whom I love and the shadow of the Prime I used to wish I could become.]**

            Ultra Magnus read the entire thing and his mouth opened with a little “ _oh_ ” of surprise.

            **[The funny thing is, Brainstorm saw exactly what I was doing and that’s why he volunteered to come here.   He saw my ambition to make a place for our kind in the universe and wanted to become a part of it.  He’s the first Autobot to see what it was that I have been trying to do, as Autobot Leader and as Galvatron’s lover.]**   The flame-colored mech grinned as he held up the datapad for Magnus to read that part.  **[That and he claims to have a crush on me. _That weirdo_.  But I’m glad he came and I’m glad he understands why I’ve done everything that I’ve done up until now.]**

            “ ** _Wait_**.  _Wait, wait, wait_ …………..Hot Rod, are you trying to……?”  Ultra Magnus gasped, suddenly everything falling into place for him.

            The young flame-colored mech nodded, grinning at his former Second.

            “But……. _wait_ ……...wouldn’t it be difficult to get Galvatron to join the Galactic Alliance?”  The old soldier murmured, reaching up to rub the back of his neck with his left servo, placing his right one on his hip and staring at the floor as he tried to work his way through the whole thing.   He just couldn’t believe that Rodimus Prime—that Hot Rod—had planned something _this grand_ and _this ambitious_.   Suddenly it all made sense, the tight bonds the young Autobot had tried to forge with the Galactic Alliance for all those years—and still trying to continue with even in his limited capacity now.

            **[I think it’s still a long ways off.   And by then Galvatron will have a sovereignty.  The rules will be different for his empire over the way the Autobots have joined, but I’ve got the time to work on that.  At least, I hope I’ve got the time.]**   Hot Rod typed up and then showed his response to his friend.

            “ _Primus_ ………I want to see this happen, now.  I had no idea you were doing all of this, right under my own optics, no less!”  Ultra Magnus responded with a smile and soft chuckle.  “If I did not have my own duties— ** _I_** would volunteer to come here and work with you, just to watch this epic unfold.”

            Hot Rod grinned, in a far better mood now than he was a short few moments ago.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            When Galvatron returned to Chaar after chasing Starscream’s forces with a fruitless end result, he was in a mood.   Anger was most prevalent in his EM field as he came into Hot Rod’s temporary berthroom and office, but there was the similar emotion of frustration as well as ripples of disappointment.

            **[He learned from the best, my lord…………he learned from _you._   From Megatron, before the crash on Earth—hit-and-run assaults.  Powerful enough to cause destruction and damage and retreating before being confronted by a stopping force.]**   Hot Rod typed on his datapad and held it up for his lover to read.

            “Well, _now_ I wish I did not have such an apt pupil,” Galvatron growled.   “I spoke with Ultra Magnus—he mentioned you were upset for a bit and got over it.  What troubles you, my little Prime?   And who must I hurt to fix it?”   He asked, swiping a gentle finger beneath the flame-colored mech’s jawline.

            **[It’s fine.  Nothing _you_ can fix, my lord.   Just the problems that still lie within me.]**   Hot Rod typed and smiled softly as he turned the datapad his lover’s way.  **[You called me a treasure.  Did you really mean it, Galvatron?  Really?]**

            Galvatron frowned, anger began leaking heavily back into his field.  “Are you _trying_ to make me angry?  Or do you not believe my words?”  He snapped, sharply, crossing his arms angrily across his chest and stepping away from Hot Rod.

            **[I just want to hear you say them again.  They make me _happy_.  Because you have always been the most honest person in my life and tell me what I need to hear, even if it does upset me.  Unlike the Autobots—who won’t even be honest with me anymore.]**    Then the flame-colored mech held the datapad out to Galvatron who took it and his frown grew even deeper.

            “What do you mean that the Autobots are not being honest with you?   Why do you say this?  Ultra Magnus said nothing about this to me……….” Galvatron growled.

            Hot Rod motioned for the datapad back and typed up his answer quickly.  **[They’ve lied about having other job duties when I’ve asked anyone to visit me.  Nobody will volunteer to come work at my embassy.  They like the peace from the accords, but they don’t want to “ _hang out_ ” with Decepticons or someone who is berthing a Decepticon.] ** Galvatron took the datapad when it was handed back and read it—his frown turning into an outright scowl, showing his fangs with the anger now fully suffusing his EM field.

            “You should _repudiate_ them.   _Strip off your brand and go brandless if you must_ , but you need not show those pathetic little Autobots any loyalty if they are showing none to you.   I will end the accords and the Autobots shall cease to exist for my universe and my empire,” Galvatron said, his voice very even, very serious and a level of anger undetermined beneath it.

            Hot Rod looked upset and waved his hand for the datapad.  Galvatron handed it back to his little lover, frowning deeply again.  **[Please don’t.  I worked hard for this………..and a couple Autobots still care and………..]**   But even before he finished typing, the Decepticon Leader snatched the datapad and looked at the incomplete response, dropping the datapad on the floor and grabbing Hot Rod’s chin roughly.

            “You must _stop_ this.  You are hurting yourself with your compassion for all—your self-hatred interferes with _everything_.   _Do not_ let the Autobots bother you, do you understand?  You are very important to me……..I treasure you beyond many things in my life, this is _not_ a thing I state easily.   I will _not_ have you being mistreated by anyone.  Do you understand me?  I will _not_ let anyone make you feel worse when I am trying very hard in my own ways, with my own understandings, to help you heal,” Galvatron ordered, firmly.  Then he leaned down and slid his glossa over Hot Rod’s slightly parted lips and the kiss went on longer than even the Decepticon Leader had intended it to.

 

**|I so want to frag right now, but my body aches too much, my Emperor.|**

 

            Hot Rod glyph-sent the fluffy little statement as he leaned back into the bed and smiled up at Galvatron.   The grey-and-purple mech gave a small little smile and waggled a finger at his precious little Prime.

            “Not until the sparkling comes out of you, little Prime,” Galvatron said, firmly, smiling down at Hot Rod.   “I also want you to stop letting these small things bother you so much.   If those you believed were _‘friends’_ want nothing more to do with you because I enjoy playing in the berth with you, that is their own personal issue.   If you must wind up having mostly Decepticons staffing your embassy, then so be it………that would be the _Autobots’ fault_ for failing the _Autobot Embassy_.  It is fully within Optimus Prime’s power to assign staff to you and if I must eventually bring that to his attention, than I shall.   But you are _my treasure_ , my Prime—and I will not have you falling apart with pain, grief, ache and sadness.   You are a brighter fire when you laugh and I _prefer_ you that way.”

            Then Galvatron leaned down to pick the datapad back up and handed it to Hot Rod.   The flame-colored mech dusted it off and checked for damage, happy to find none, he typed a private little message to Galvatron and grinned deviously as he showed it to his lover.

            The Emperor of the Decepticons roared with laughter and cherished his little Prime even more.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            Even as the due date for the new sparkling’s birth got nearer—Hot Rod continued to work tirelessly at his job duties, even when Galvatron told him it was absolutely unnecessary.   But, finally, a new Autobot had come to the embassy to work.   His former name, during the war, had been “ _Doublecross_ ”—he’d been a spy and had seen things from both an Autobot and a Decepticon point-of-view…………..now he chose to go by the name of “ _Twinferno_ ”, because in his alt mode (a twin-headed dragon) his main weapon was a fiery breath weapon.   So, Twinferno understood that even the Decepticons were not “ _outright evil_ ”—nor were the Autobots “ _outright good_ ”, he’d seen Autobots do things that supposedly the Autobots always complained about _ONLY_ the Decepticons ever doing.

            Twinferno had also just come from the frontier—returning to Cybertron after finally hearing news of the ceasefire accords and had just seen the bulletin for Hot Rod asking for more staff at his embassy on Chaar.   So, he didn’t have the background and prejudices that the majority of Autobots on Cybertron and Earth had towards Decepticons and remembering the war as they’d seen it.   He’d seen the frontier and the war wasn’t as black-and-white out there.

            Two new Decepticons had _also_ joined the embassy staff—the two were definitely, inexplicably twins in their primary modes, but their alt modes were completely different.   Their names were Wingspan and Pounce.   The two of them had cheerful attitudes and had also come in from the frontier and confirmed everything Twinferno had said about things not being as clear-cut out there as they had been on the home front.   And the twins had utterly attached to Twinferno………..it was clear there’d be a relationship between the three of them soon enough.

            **[Apologies if I keep fading in and out today, Twinferno—I’m just super-tired.]** Hot Rod said, via his datapad, as the mech came into his temporary berthroom and office to deliver a couple datapads from Carnivac.  **[Sit—I want to get to know you better.  Already talked with the twins recently.]**   He added, after the dark grey-and-red mech read his responses to the reports given to him.   **[Tell me about yourself—your time on the fringes of the war.]**

            “Well, as I said in my introduction interview—it’s not all black-and-white out there.   I was with this strike force of Autobots and I will admit…….I watched our commander fall into a very dark place.   I don’t know if I’ll ever know what triggered it, but I watched him torture Decepticon prisoners with a grin on his faceplate,” Twinferno said, pulling a chair out from the corner of the room and leaning back in it.    “His interrogations were often _unnecessary_ and we never got anything useful most times before we were asked to dispose of the corpses.”   The dark grey-and-red mech sighed softly and leaned forwards, his elbow-joints on his knees and his fingers twined together between them.   “When I infiltrated the Decepticons, I was in a shabby little hit-and-run unit………at one point, when the commander of the troop didn’t believe in me anymore—I was assigned _‘babysitting duty’_ of this super-old mech.   I mean _seriously old_ …….. ** _older_** than Alpha Trion or Kup.  His designation was **_MHzero-two-one-two_** and he mostly spoke really old Cybertronian.”

            Hot Rod sat up and leaned forwards, typing hurriedly on his datapad and held it up to Twinferno.   **[He was a Quintesson model…………..a military hardware line?]**   He’d asked via his glyphs.  MH0212—the “ ** _MH_** ” had to have stood for “ _military hardware_ ” by the Quintessons’ designations.

            The former spy tilted his head.  “What are _Quintessons_?   And I’ve never heard of that……..?”  He asked.

            Hot Rod was surprised, just how far out on the fringes of the war _had_ Twinferno been???

            **[Don’t mention Quintessons when Galvatron’s around, but they are the species that created ours.  Then they created a computer to keep processing new mechs—that’s where the term “ _newmech_ ” comes from—when they got bored of making us themselves, that’s Vector Sigma.  Most of the ones created by the Quintessons are rather generic and were meant to be product to sell to other species.   But when our ancestors of the consumer line and the military line banded together to rise up against the Quintessons—they drove them away from Cybertron and erased them from our history.   I rediscovered this connection through the Matrix when I was Autobot Leader for a time.]**  Hot Rod explained through a long series of gylphs—although he tried to make his explanation as short as possible.

            “Then I wonder if those things are the _‘stupid masters’_ MHzero-two-one-two kept muttering about.  He was pretty senile and I’d wondered why that Decepticon team kept him around, but the things he _did remember_ were absolutely brilliant and useful in the situations that team was often found in……so, I think that was _probably_ why,” Twinferno explained.

            **[Can I ask why you chose to come to the Autobot Embassy here on Chaar?  You don’t have to tell me, I just want to know.]**   The flame-colored mech typed up and then turned the datapad to Twinferno so he could read it.

            “Ultra Magnus posted the job description and when I’d asked what it was basically about—he told me how you hoped to have more Autobots volunteer there because you were feeling a bit lonely for fellow Autobots and all,” the dark grey-and-red mech responded, smiling over at Hot Rod.   “Since I’d worked with Decepticons out in the spy business and all, I figured having someone with a background in dealing with Decepticons might be useful to you.   But I _am_ glad I came, because those twins are _hot_.  **_Seriously_** ,” he added with a warm chuckle.

            **[You _weren’t_ forced, right?   You aren’t here because you were _ordered to_ , right?]**  Hot Rod typed and saw the Autobot frown when he read it.

            “What do you mean?   I _wasn’t_ forced at all.  That’s a _weird_ question,” Twinferno responded.  He tilted his head at Hot Rod, wondering just what the young mech was getting at.   “I admit, I really jumped at the _‘having a paycheck’_ part of the job description though.   I don’t think I’ve ever had more than a handful of shanix to my name at any point in my lifetime.  A nice berth that I don’t have to share if I don’t want to is also very cool.”

            **[Nobody really wants to volunteer in “ _Decepticon territory_ ”.]**  Hot Rod typed, not desiring to get into the details he’d shared with Ultra Magnus and Galvatron more recently.

            “We’re _all the same species_ , seriously.   **_Ugh_**.  _Just get over it_ ,” Twinferno groaned as he read that statement.   “No, I’m here because I _wanted_ to be here.  A paycheck and berth of my own is nice and you know……….it’s been _fun_ so far.”

            **[I’m glad.  Thank you for coming.   And the twins think _you’re_ pretty hot, too.]**   Hot Rod responded via the glyphs on his datapad and he grinned at the dark grey-and-red mech.

            Suddenly a familiar EM field washed over the room, right before Galvatron stomped in the door.  He glanced at Twinferno, then pointed at him and pointed at the door—all gestures that said “ _leave now_ ”.   The Autobot ducked his head politely, got up and left, leaving the chair where it was, because he felt the Decepticon Leader may want to sit down.   Hot Rod sent a glyph message with a tagged glyph respresenting “ _love_ ” attached at the end and rippled it out in his field.

 

**|Galvatron, are you okay?|**

 

            The Decepticon Leader growled and grumbled incoherently and grabbed the chair, spinning it around to sit backwards in it and lean his arms along the back of the chair—a gesture completely unlike the grey-and-purple mech.  “I am _fine_ , just angry,” he responded in a low mutter.   “I have learned that some of the Decepticons who had not come home yet have joined with Starscream and his Destrons,” he added, staring at the floor and not looking at Hot Rod.

            **[I’m sorry.  It _may_ have been inevitable though—Chaar may not be known as “ _home_ ” to them and _you_ are even more unfamiliar.   Most of those Decepticons may remember Starscream, even if they don’t like him—and they may have heard some choice lies from Starscream, too.]**    The flame-colored mech typed on his datapad and then held it up for Galvatron to read.

            “ _Rrrrgh_.   I already hate Starscream and he is making me hate him even further,” Galvatron snarled.

            **[It’s his goal to _piss you off_ , my Emperor.  _That’s_ why he let me live.  He thinks that you knowing that he tainted me will make you hate me and hate him and hate the sparkling, too.   You’ll either live with that hate every day you see us, or you’ll kill us both—either way, he wins.]**   Hot Rod typed and then was surprised when Galvatron shot up from the chair and stomped over to the medical berth he was laying in.

            “Why would I hate you for what _he_ did to you?   That is _petty_ ,” Galvatron snapped, grabbing Hot Rod’s chin and staring down into his little lover’s optics.

 

**|He thinks you are still Megatron and you will cling to your anger and petty jealousies.|**

 

            Galvatron scowled angrily.   Hot Rod _was_ right—that sounded exactly like everything he remembered about Starscream.   But Galvatron did not remember anything of his years as Megatron—the plasma pools on Thrull caused memory damage and those memory circuits were unable to ever be repaired, every medic (including the Autobot one!) had said that to him.   But he didn’t need memories of who he used to be, because _he was Galvatron_ and he was **_better_** than Megatron in every way—that was something he knew truly and instinctively.   Yes, there were occasionally flashes of odd memories—and it seemed all had been linked to Starscream in some way……..so, Hot Rod thought that maybe he had those odd and vague memories because of the lingering remnants of the Spark-bond within him.   Memories that were not true memories, but more like lingering ghosts of memories—flawed, failed and inaccurate sometimes.   _Memories linked to emotions_ ……….and emotional ghosts of memories were seen different than the recordings of the actual moments those memories were.

 

**|You are Galvatron.  You are the mech I love with everything that I am.   You are better than Megatron, because you have come to see your Decepticons as subjects of your empire and not as useless cannon fodder to be used until they are gone.|**

 

            “I told you many times not to use glyph-messaging for _fluffy things_ ,” Galvatron chuckled, smiling down at Hot Rod and changing the grip of his fingers on his little lover’s chin to gently caress the jawline of the flame-colored mech.   “So, my former rival.  _You_ are the leader of a new army that you have acquired— _what will you do_?”  The Decepticon Leader said, walking back over to the chair, turning it around and sitting in it **_properly_**.   He folded his arms and looked at Hot Rod expectantly, because he valued those thoughts and opinions as much as he treasured the frame and Spark of the little Autobot.

**[Hammer out the chain of command and establish it firmly.   Evaluate the supplies needed to keep the army going.  Learn about all the ones under my command, so that I know not just their skills, but their personalities as well—so that I can anticipate any potential problems.   And spy on my enemies, when I can.]**

            Galvatron read the evaluation Hot Rod showed him on his datapad.

**[He knows when I should be birthing the new sparkling—he will probably set some kind of spies around here, because he’ll want to know if you’ll kill us both.   And even if he can’t get spies on Chaar to find out this information right away—he’ll try to keep you away from me when the gestation tank breaks open and I’ll want you with me the most.   He’ll initiate a big battle, just to keep you from me when the sparkling is born………because he’ll gamble your desire for revenge will be greater than your position as a sire.]**

            “He really _does not_ know me, does he?”  Galvatron chuckled, wryly, shaking his head as he read the glyphs on the datapad.  “ _This_ is why I have the Autobots in this situation.  Optimus Prime wants to chase Decepticons still, because he’s clinging to the war deep in his Spark—so I shall _allow him_ to chase Starscream’s Destrons instead.  Because Starscream is causing trouble amongst many fleshy species which Optimus seems to desire to protect, the Autobot Leader will not be able to resist that.  I _do not_ intend to take Starscream’s bait, if _that_ is what he plans—I will be here to see my new sparkling come into this universe.”

 

**|I love you, my Emperor.|**

 

            Hot Rod’s field rippled out with love and warmth, reaching out for Galvatron’s field as he glyph-sent the phrase.   Galvatron’s field full of possessiveness caught the love and their fields tangled, even as the Decepticon Leader verbally chided his little Prime once more for abusing the glyph-message system with “ _fluffy things_ ”.

 

*      *      *     *     *

 

            This time it was the middle of the day and Hot Rod was wide awake when his gestation tank broke open.   Even though no sound came out of his vocalizer, he was shocked and tried to cry out, slapping both servos over his mouth as if to cover a scream.  Brainstorm looked at him puzzled, as they’d been going over some budget lines together, while Carnivac was inputting all the budget data into the computer files over at the desk by the far wall.

            “What……the…………. _holy Primus_!?”  Brainstorm gasped, leaping back as biofluid splashed to the floor.   “ _Uh_ , I guess we’ll finish the budget another time!”  The teal-and-white Autobot said, running over to the communication’s console.  “ _Hook!   You and First Aid better get here fast!   Hot Rod’s gestation tank just broke open!_ ”  The young scientist cried into the communicator.

            Carnivac was already on his feet and grabbing a mop from the nearby storage closet.  He was mopping up dripping biofluid on the floor, when Galvatron was the first one to burst through the doors, before any of the medics arrived at the embassy.  Well, Galvatron was already in the embassy, with his Novablaze and had a feeling this event would happen soon—so he’d been hanging out a few hours every day.

            “ ** _Prime_**!   That burst through our Spark-bonds scared Novablaze!   _Honestly_!”  Galvatron chided, walking over to the medical berth non-chalantly and lowering it so that Hot Rod was lying flat on his back on the wet berth.

            Hot Rod still had his servos over his mouth and shook his head.  But relief swept through him to see Galvatron there.

            “Yes, yes………..you had _no control_ over that, I know.   I left him in the care of Cyclonus and your other staff members so that I could come and attend to you.  But apparently I have beat the medics here,” the Decepticon Leader chuckled softly.   “I do hope I shall not have to deliver it myself, because I may be perfect, but _this is not something I have much knowledge of_.  However, you seem more coherent _this_ time and not in as much pain as before………..am I not mistaken on this?”   He said not really expecting an answer—he was just keeping Hot Rod distracted from the pain.  Then he grabbed Hot Rod’s legs and pulled the smaller mech to the edge of the berth—then propped the legs up so the pedes were right on the edge of the berth while his one of his own servos swept on the underside of the berth for the pede-straps.  He found them and slipped the loops into Hot Rod’s pedes, spreading the legs over to the sides of the medical berth, just as Hook and First Aid rushed in.  The two medics shoved gear at Brainstorm and Carnivac before asking if they were staying or going—which meant the two were stuck there in the background now—needing to be ready to hand medical supplies to the two medics.

            “Good work, Lord Galvatron,” First Aid praised with a smile.

            “I remember _some_ of Novablaze’s birthing,” Galvatron said with a wicked grin and a shrug.  Then he moved up to the pillowed area of the berth and leaned over it, placing a large servo over Hot Rod’s dewy forehead.  “How do you feel, my little Prime?”   He asked.

            The flame-colored mech gave a little smile and reached up to put a light grey servo gently over the one on his forehead, sending ripples of love through his field up at Galvatron.

            “It may be that this second time is _easier_ for him—his body knows what to do now,” Hook said, checking Hot Rod’s vitals as First Aid bent over and peered into the young Autobot’s leaking valve.   “What’ve we got down there?”   He asked of his Autobot medical counterpart.

            “ _Perfection_.   He’s widely dilated and the sparkling is in the valve canal—you might be right, Hook, this is easier on him now with a second birth,” First Aid responded cheerfully.  “The sparkling is definitely ready to be born— _it’s going to be very fast_.”

            Galvatron roared with laughter as Hot Rod sent him a glyph-message on how it _better be done with fast_ , because he was tired of laying in the berth all the time _without being fragged_.

            First Aid was glad he was recording the moment he came into the room, because even before they could really encourage Hot Rod to do any pushing or working on making the sparkling come out—the tiny little frame slid out of the overly-lubricated valve, right into the plush medical towel the Autobot CMO had waiting.   If he were just a few seconds slower, the little one might’ve slid straight onto the floor!

            Hot Rod relaxed instantly as he felt the frame slide out of him and another rush of biofluid gushed from the remainders of what was left in the gestation tank and splashed onto the floor at First Aid’s pedes.   The young Autobot took a few incycles of breath and gazed up at Galvatron lovingly, then he motioned with his other hand to go over and look at the newly-born sparkling while he regained his senses.  Compared to how long it took with Novablaze and all the pain, Hot Rod was surprised at how sudden and how fast this birth was!   He didn’t even have any time to rage at Galvatron for all the pain he was in!  Hot Rod chuckled to himself as Galvatron reluctantly left him and went over to where First Aid was by the desk. 

            The Autobot’s CMO had Carnivac drop the portable sink onto the corner of the desk and instructed Brainstorm to open the cleansing fluid, which had been specially made with no detergents or minerals, especially for a newborn’s sensitive and soft dermal layers.   By the time First Aid had carefully cleaned the little frame thoroughly and dried them off, he straightened up with surprise.

            “What is it, medic?  Is there _something wrong_ with the newmech?”  Galvatron snapped, surprised by First Aid’s sudden jerking up straight.

            “ ** _No_** ……….but what we have here………is a **_femme_** ,” First Aid laughed warmly.   “I don’t think any of us were expecting _that_ , were we, little one?”  The Autobot medic chuckled, swabbing more cleansing fluid away from the shiny little frame.

            “What is a _‘femme’_?” Galvatron muttered with bewilderment, leaning over the medic’s shoulder gazing at the small sparkling with confusion and curiousity.

            It _looked the same_ as any newmech he’d ever probably laid optics on.  Which meant it looked _no different_ than Novablaze had upon birth.   Well…..except for the colors on the dermal and frame layers—primarily red, with some purple and sunbright-yellow striping and patterning.   The back _definitely_ had a pair of wings—the wings looked _more like wings_ than Novablaze’s wing-shapes did.

            “A _female Transformer_ —like Arcee.  You know—the **_PINK_** Autobot we have back on Cybertron?”  First Aid explained.

            “It still looks like a _newmech_ to me.  How did you determine it is a…….. _newfemme_?”  Galvatron asked, still very puzzled.   He was internally trying to determine how he felt about the red primary color—it _definitely_ was Hot Rod’s, but it was _also Starscream’s_ too.  Which, combined with the _definitely obvious_ wing portions on the back, it proved the newspark had definitely gotten _some_ of Starscream’s CNA.   He didn’t hate it, but………..he had _personally hoped_ that he wouldn’t be able to see any of Starscream’s traits in the sparkling.

            “Here, Lord Galvatron……..the neck cabling and waist are thinner.  The chest-piece is cut high and the waist-piece is cut low.   _Mechs don’t look like this_ , no matter how **_pretty_** they are,” First Aid responded with a chuckle, pointing at the little one’s tiny frame.   “Here, none of that is really important— _what is important_ is that you have a new sparkling to hold.”   Then he took a smaller blanket of a deep blue and wrapped the still-dazed newborn in it—the medic thought the sparkling was dazed from such a quick birth, she’d made no noises yet and looked a little sleepy.

            First Aid grabbed a thick cradle pad from the supplies he’d thrust at Carnivac earlier.   He glanced over at Hook, who had raised the medical berth’s back so Hot Rod could sit up and the Decepticon’s CMO was giving the young Autobot a thorough post-birth checkup.

            “Arm please, Lord Galvatron,” the red-and-white medic chuckled, making the motion of a cradled arm to the Decepticon Leader.

            Having held Novablaze when he was a newmech, freshly born, Galvatron remembered _exactly_ how to hold his arm.  First Aid then placed the cradle pad in the crook of Galvatron’s arm.   Then the Autobot’s CMO placed the little femme in her blue blanket against the cradle pad in Galavtron’s arm.

            All of the sudden, just as Galvatron had begun to turn and take the newborn over to his little lover, the little femme growled and hissed up at her sire, showing tiny little fangs.  “ ** _No!_**   This is something we _do not do_ , little one!”  Galvatron growled back at her, raising his other servo and bringing a single forefinger down with a tiny little thwack on top of her little helm.

            “ ** _Galvatron!   What are you doing to my little Stormbreaker!?_** ”  Hot Rod cried, his voice cracking with static and disuse.

            “I am _disciplining_ my little spawn, what does it look like I am doing, Prime?!”  Galvatron snapped back as he started stomping over to the medical berth.  Then he stared down at Hot Rod, surprise on his faceplate.  “My little Prime—it seems as if you have found your voice once more,” he said, purring with pleasure.

            Hot Rod’s servos went to his neck cabling in surprise.   Then he gave a little chuckle, broken with static and pops.   “I suppose I have,” he said, softly, raising his arms.  “ _Let me hold her_.  Let me hold my little _Stormbreaker_ ……..?”  He asked, looking up at Galvatron hopefully.

            Galvatron tried very hard not to jostle the tiny newfemme much as he transferred her, cradle pad and all, into Hot Rod’s open arms.  Just then, as she settled against the high-cut remaining chest part of the former Autobot Leader, she began hissing and spitting and baring her tiny fangs again.

            “ ** _NO!!_**   I said that we _do not_ tolerate this!”  Galvatron snapped again, bringing his forefinger down upon her small helm again with a tiny little thwack.   “ _Prime!_    **_You_** must also see to her discipline!  _We shall not tolerate such an attitude towards you, towards myself—and certainly not towards her elder sibling, Novablaze!_   **_If_** she does this again, tap her as I have upon her helm!   Tell her **_‘no’_**!   Do you hear me, Prime?   Such nonsense _will not be tolerated_!”   The Decepticon Leader said to his little lover, folding his arms over his chest.

            “Galvatron, she’s a _newborn_ ……… ** _she’s_** ………” Hot Rod began. 

            “I said, **_‘no’_** , Prime!  You _must_ let her know who is above her in rank and file—and without you, she would not be here and she would not be fed for the next few months!   _Do not coddle her_!”  Galvatron ordered, sharply.

            “Hot Rod…………Galvatron’s _kinda_ right.  If you don’t want her to become cranky and spoiled— _don’t_ let her get away with _bad habits_ early on,” Brainstorm said from across the room, holding up a servo for attention.

            “ ** _Exactly_**.  Listen to me and listen to your staff.  If she growls and hisses at you again, _discipline her_!”  Galvatron said, firmly.  “ ** _Prrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiimmmmmmee!!_** ”  The Decepticon Leader growled, tapping a pede on the floor.

            “Okay.  _Okay!_    I’ll make sure she doesn’t get spoiled,” Hot Rod finally relented with a sigh.  “Listen to your sire, Storm, okay?   Your sire and your carrier know what’s best for you,” the flame-colored mech said, smiling down at the little femmeling who’d started sobbing a little at all the loud talking around her.  And probably from the unexpected taps on the helm, as well.   He reached over with his free servo and rubbed a gentle finger along the side of her face and helm and she began to purr happily.   “See, be a good little femmeling, right?”  He chuckled, rippling his field full of love over her and the little newfemme responded with wobbly EM field nonsense emotions.

            “ _There_.  **_That_** is what we should have.  A happy, purring little………what did you call her, a _‘femmeling’_?   I still _do not_ understand the difference,” Galvatron said with a sigh, shaking his head.   “But I appreciate _the name_ you have chosen for her.  **_Stormbreaker_** , it suits her and the situation,” he added, smiling down at Hot Rod fondly, happy to hear his little Prime speaking again and to have another little sparkling they created together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *buries face in hands* I couldn't NOT make her red, okay??? BUT I PROMISE SHE DOESN'T LOOK LIKE WINDBLADE IN MY HEAD. SERIOUSLY. *cries*
> 
> And the title of this story was meant to be a serious giveaway, in case no one caught that. XD


End file.
